


buckled up on navy

by queerofcups



Series: tiny fics for PR [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 11:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12298248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerofcups/pseuds/queerofcups
Summary: Dan’s certainty in Phil and in their kid is unlike anything Phil’s ever experienced. Dan swears it’ll be a girl, the best girl in the world. Phil’s not even sure he thinks of it as more than a particularly precocious goldfish quite yet.





	buckled up on navy

**Author's Note:**

> or charlottekath, who requested mpreg Dan!  
> title from Kings of Leon's Knocked Up, juuuust like the last mpreg fic I wrote lol

“D’you think she likes this?” Dan asks, ducking his head to get more spicy noodles in his mouth. Red broth splatters across the table cloth, making little fiery circles. When Dan looks up he’s got a little bit on the corner of his mouth. Phil is equal parts fond and disgusted. 

“I don’t think it has taste buds yet?” Phil says, glancing down in the direction of Dan’s stomach. He’s not showing through clothes yet. He’s barely showing when he’s wandering around the house in pants, the curve of his belly no more pronounced than when they’ve gorged themselves on pizza and sweets. 

But they’ve got the documents in their bedside table and a growing stack of pregnancy books all around the house that say that Dan’s pregnant and only going to get more so.

It took a year of conversation, of planning and replanning and now they’re eating ramen in the middle of the day because Dan swears he’s having a craving, nevermind the fact that he’s barely two months along. Phil’s already found his hand gravitating towards the bump, absently resting his palm below Dan’s belly and pressing gently, just to feel the firm raise of something there. Someone. 

It’s too early, way too early for them to be thinking about this. Before he’d poured himself into research about how to be the best (and most well read) parent ever, Dan had poured himself into pre-pregnancy books. If Phil asked he could probably reel off statistics about how Dan’s just missed prime fertility age, the suite of tests they’d have to do if Phil had been the one to carry, how likely a miscarriage is in every trimester.

He’d never ask, but sometimes Dan wants to tell Phil about the likelihood of the baby picking up their quirks--their bad habits, and the worse stuff. In the dark, spread across their bed with their fingers curled together, Dan talks about being worried. Worried that they won’t get pregnant, worried that they will and it won’t work out, worried that it will and the baby will get all the things tumbling around his head, the jittery anxiety, the short-breathed agoraphobia. Phil whispers back, first about what a great parent Dan will make and how they’ve both made a life with all those things in tow. It's his first instinct to make sure Dan’s okay, make sure he’s got something bright to balance his habitual doomsday scenarios again.

But when Dan asks, Phil admits his own fears, about his migraines, about being too old to see the baby through all the life his parents had been there for. Dan had laughed at him, pointed out that he was only few years past thirty and there were people long past fifty having babies these days. 

Dan’s certainty in Phil and in their kid is unlike anything Phil’s ever experienced. Dan swears it’ll be a girl, the best girl in the world. Phil’s not even sure he thinks of it as more than a particularly precocious goldfish quite yet.

But now, looking at Dan flushed with spicy food and the delight of talking about the pregnancy, all of those confessions of fear and unsureness seem to have never existed at all. All the uncertainty dissipates. 

Right now, Phil feels like he could watch Dan eat all the ramen and noodles and curry he wants, growing their kid in a soup of nutrients that taste like bird’s eye chilis and the milk Dan’s been guzzling in an attempt to inoculate the kid against Phil’s own lactose abhorrence. 

“She doesn’t,” Dan says happily, dragging Phil back to the conversation out of his adoring stupor. “She doesn’t even have a mouth yet. She’s just sort of...absorbing things right now. Through her skin.”

“Like an earthworm,” Phil says approvingly, can barely stop smiling long enough to take a drink of water. 

Dan kicks Phil’s shoe and Phil traps Dan’s foot between his, crossing his ankles when Dan tries to tug it back. Dan leaves his foot where it is.

It’s been a year since they moved into the house, and they’ve stopped trying to particularly hide anything, but Phil still gets a thrill out of this, these little snatches of secret affection that they’ve been hoarding for a decade now. He’d never tell Dan, but he’s looking forward to months down the line, when Dan’s too top heavy to get up easily on his own and Phil has an excuse to grab and hold his hand all the time, press a steadying touch to the small of his back.

Dan’s the clingy one, but Phil keeps finding his hands seeking out Dan’s body, wanting to make sure that he’s whole and here and that they’re both okay. That they’re all okay.

“Please don’t call our child an earthworm,” Dan says in that prim way he gets when they’re in public and what he really means is Phiiiiiil. 

“Little Wormy,” Phil says, nearly dancing with delight at the way Dan rolls his eyes. “Wormalina.”

“It’s going to be really hard being a single parent,” Dan tells him, serious like his dimple isn’t on full display. “But I think me and Babe are going to be ok. Plenty of great people come from single parent homes. Too bad her other dad died a horrible accident after suggesting we call her Wormalina.”

“Wormette?” Phil asks, just to see Dan’s smile get out of control. “Worma Jean.”

“You idiot,” Dan says, and it sounds curiously like I love you.

“I love you too,” Phil tells him, “You and our precious, scaley, wormy baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi at queerofcups.tumblr.com!


End file.
